1932, it was the year when my life took a completely unexpected turn for the worse. I was only thirteen years old at the time. I can recall exactly what happened on that humid night of July 20th. Like any other ordinary summer night right outside of Memphis, Tennessee, I waited out on my front porch for Daddy to get home from working at the factory. While waiting there, I strummed a tune on my guitar and softly sang my favorite song. I kept playing until I realized the sun had set and the night began to cool down. Looking up towards the stars, I felt relaxed. Lost in my own thoughts, I didn’t realize right away that my father had finally gotten home. I stood up from my porch and ran to give him a welcoming hug. Right away I knew something was wrong. My father has always been a cheerful happy man, but as I looked up at him, all I saw was a distraught man. Confused about what was happening, Daddy sat me down and proceeded to tell me how he had lost his job at the factory. Everything I knew as good in my life came crashing down when my father told me the shocking news. “Gracie, I have lost everything. I have no job and now there is no more money,” he said to me still crying. “I need you to do me a favor.” Looking up curiously I asked, “What can I do to help?” He carefully brushed my long brown hair away from my face. “Pack only your most necessary items tonight. You need to leave on the next train in the morning,” he said staring into my big sad brown eyes. That was the last conversation I had with Daddy until many years later. The next morning I was ready to leave before sun rise. Everyone else in my family was still sleeping, so I quietly gathered my belongings and left without even saying goodbye. The only things I carried with me were a few sets of clothing, my journal and the small amount of money I had found in my room. I had only 8 dollars to live off of. Holding back tears, I walked out the door; that was the last time I saw my house. As hard as it was to leave, I knew I had to take responsibility and find a job in California in order to support Daddy, Mama, and my three younger sisters. Only a mere thirteen years old and I was off on my own to find a new life. I started my journey by foot, walking for what seemed like thousands of miles until I reached the nearest railroad station. There were other anxious teenagers there as well, waiting to take the rail somewhere better. Unsure about what to do, I followed what the others were doing. I found myself running after a boxcar train, while trying my hardest to reach one of the rungs of the ladder, where I could hoist my little legs off of the ground. Suddenly a large hand grabbed hold of me and pulled me up just as the train began to pick up speed. I glanced up to see a boy around my age helping me to the top of the boxcar. When I could stand on my own feet again, I said, “My name’s Gracie. Thank you very much sir.” “Name’s Billy,” he said offering a dirty hand up to introduce himself like a gentleman. As it turned out, Billy had been riding the rails for a few weeks already and was trying to find a job in California as well. We talked and ended up becoming friends. I realized I was not as scared knowing I had someone by my side throughout this journey. The sun set and the sky darkened into night. At some point, I closed my eyes and immediately fell into a deep sleep. While I was sleeping, the train had come to a halt. Suddenly I awoke to Billy nervously shaking me and saying we had to get off the train immediately. The Bulls were there arresting people for riding the rails. Billy took my hand, led me down the train ladder and started to run. Out of the darkness, one of the Bulls grabbed Billy and took him away. I felt his hand torn away from mine as I kept on running for my own safety. My heart was beating in my throat. Never in my life had I been as scared as that moment. I was left alone to fend for myself again. However, one thing was for sure. I was determined to keep riding the rails until I found my way to California.
By: Hanna Williamson
1932, it was the year when my life took a completely unexpected turn for the worse. I was only thirteen years old at the time. I can recall exactly what happened on that humid night of July 20th. Like any other ordinary summer night right outside of Memphis, Tennessee, I waited out on my front porch for Daddy to get home from working at the factory. While waiting there, I strummed a tune on my guitar and softly sang my favorite song. I kept playing until I realized the sun had set and the night began to cool down. Looking up towards the stars, I felt relaxed. Lost in my own thoughts, I didn’t realize right away that my father had finally gotten home. I stood up from my porch and ran to give him a welcoming hug. Right away I knew something was wrong. My father has always been a cheerful happy man, but as I looked up at him, all I saw was a distraught man. Confused about what was happening, Daddy sat me down and proceeded to tell me how he had lost his job at the factory. Everything I knew as good in my life came crashing down when my father told me the shocking news.
“Gracie, I have lost everything. I have no job and now there is no more money,” he said
to me still crying. “I need you to do me a favor.”
Looking up curiously I asked, “What can I do to help?”
He carefully brushed my long brown hair away from my face.
“Pack only your most necessary items tonight. You need to leave on the next train in the
morning,” he said staring into my big sad brown eyes.
That was the last conversation I had with Daddy until many years later.
The next morning I was ready to leave before sun rise. Everyone else in my family was still sleeping, so I quietly gathered my belongings and left without even saying goodbye. The only things I carried with me were a few sets of clothing, my journal and the small amount of money I had found in my room. I had only 8 dollars to live off of. Holding back tears, I walked out the door; that was the last time I saw my house. As hard as it was to leave, I knew I had to take responsibility and find a job in California in order to support Daddy, Mama, and my three younger sisters. Only a mere thirteen years old and I was off on my own to find a new life.
I started my journey by foot, walking for what seemed like thousands of miles until I reached the nearest railroad station. There were other anxious teenagers there as well, waiting to take the rail somewhere better. Unsure about what to do, I followed what the others were doing. I found myself running after a boxcar train, while trying my hardest to reach one of the rungs of the ladder, where I could hoist my little legs off of the ground. Suddenly a large hand grabbed hold of me and pulled me up just as the train began to pick up speed. I glanced up to see a boy around my age helping me to the top of the boxcar.
When I could stand on my own feet again, I said, “My name’s Gracie. Thank you very much sir.” “Name’s Billy,” he said offering a dirty hand up to introduce himself like a gentleman. As it turned out, Billy had been riding the rails for a few weeks already and was trying to find a job in California as well. We talked and ended up becoming friends. I realized I was not as scared knowing I had someone by my side throughout this journey.
The sun set and the sky darkened into night. At some point, I closed my eyes and immediately fell into a deep sleep. While I was sleeping, the train had come to a halt. Suddenly I awoke to Billy nervously shaking me and saying we had to get off the train immediately. The Bulls were there arresting people for riding the rails. Billy took my hand, led me down the train ladder and started to run. Out of the darkness, one of the Bulls grabbed Billy and took him away. I felt his hand torn away from mine as I kept on running for my own safety. My heart was beating in my throat. Never in my life had I been as scared as that moment. I was left alone to fend for myself again. However, one thing was for sure. I was determined to keep riding the rails until I found my way to California.